


The God Complex

by crystanagahori



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 10th Doctor/Donna - Freeform, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Asian History, Doctor/Donna - Freeform, DoctorDonna, F/M, History, Only slightly shippy, Timey Wimey Stuff, UST, philippines, ten/donna - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystanagahori/pseuds/crystanagahori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of time and space, and the Doctor decides to land right in the middle of the Age of Exploration in Asia.The people of Mactan may or may not think that Donna is their god, and the Doctor meets Magellan. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever WhoFic! All standard disclaimers apply (of course). Happens at any particular point of the Series 4 timeline, or even post fix-it, if you like. Enjoy! This story is very loosely based on Philippine history. I thought it would be interesting to have the Doctor run around in Earth—not in England.

 

**Chapter One: "Better a supernova than a dent in the eighties, I always say. "**

Donna Noble felt her legs fly out from under her as the TARDIS continued spinning through the Vortex, rocking and jutting, wheezing and groaning in protest of its own flight. From her seat, she had a clear view of the Doctor’s tuft of tidied (coiffed, really) brown hair darting all over the console, pressing buttons, twisting random levers. At some point he’d put his foot against the console and grumbled with effort to reach a big, blue button wile pulling what looked like silly string. Despite all the lurching though, Donna managed to hold on to her position by grabbing the bottom of the jump seat, although from the way it wobbled, she was sure she was going to fly off with it when it detached.

“Come on,” the Doctor growled at his own hand, pushing further with his foot to reach the button. “Not that complicated, just a little way out of that galaxy would do!”

Donna tilted her head to the side a little, so her travelling companion’s face could come into full view. His brows were furrowed, and he was doing that thing where he was putting all his tension into his mouth as his ‘brainy specs’ started to droop over the bridge of his nose. She had to admit she liked seeing him like that, all focused on the adventure ahead.

“Need some help there, Spaceman?” She asked, managing to hop out of the jumpseat before the TARDIS wobbled and shook again. Donna instinctively grabbed the console to balance herself. “Maybe let me drive sometime? I’ve gotten pretty good since last time, you know.”

 “Weeeeell,” The Doctor said, frowning thoughtfully before rapping at a spot in the console with a mallet. “You did manage to steer us dangerously close to a supernova last time—“

 “Better a supernova than a dent in the eighties, I always say,” Donna pointed out. The Doctor threw her a look like he wasn’t sure if she was making fun of him. “Where are we going, anyway?” 

It was the question that always brought a slightly mischievous, boyish grin across his features. It was as if he’d just come up with the Best Plan Ever, with no risk of running into danger or trouble of any sort. Knowing the Doctor, Donna didn’t quite believe that. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” he asked her, gently pulling a lever down. The rocking and shaking finally ceased, and they were floating gently, merrily on their way again.

“Where are we going, where are we all going, really? Me, I just like exploring things, showing you everything about time and space. We’ve barely scratched the surface of the things we can get to see, Donna. The talking flowers of a planet full of meerkats, the the singing dolphins in Donsol—the planet, not the island, people usually get confused there—the lost treasure of Ascuzena—well, I say lost, more like it’s hidden somewhere in the TARDIS, but they don’t have to know that—“ 

“Doctor,” Donna interrupted quickly, holding up a hand to crash into his train of thought. “I just need to know where we’re going so I know what to wear.” 

“Oh!” The Doctor said just as fast, looking his companion up and down. While her eyes were wide awake and her face as lovely as ever, she was still dressed in a soft blue dressing gown, her pink striped pajamas slightly trailing on the floor over her slippers. The Doctor had gotten tired of waiting for her to wake up, all too eager to take her to today’s location that he simply forgot that she hadn’t even had a cup of coffee yet. “Right! Sorry,” he said, taking off his glasses and slipping them into his infinitely deep pockets. Then he grinned widely at her. “You’re gonna love this, Donna. Everyone loves a good beach! One of the most beautiful beaches in all of time and space. Soft white sand for miles and miles, crystal clear water, untouched for centuries. We can swim with the whalesharks! Really friendly, whalesharks, a little sensitive about their size, so best not mention that to them when we go.”

“Are you telling me,” Donna said, flopping back into the jumpseat in a soft ‘woosh’ of air. “That you can talk to whales? Because that would just be completely unfair. And is this beach going to be alien, coz I’d rather not risk dying form extonic sunlight or something just to watch you chat with whales about how they’re not lumpy in some places.”

 “Well, I can’t talk to whales so much as feel them,” he said, scratching the back of his head like he was trying to find words that didn’t sound so arrogant, failing miserably. “They’re telepathic, always have been. Humans aren’t on their wavelength, but Time Lords are.”

He ignored the way Donna rolled her eyes at that statement.

“And as for the beach,” he said, hitting the dematerialization button on the console with a satisfied slam. “I think you’ll find it can’t get any more non-alien than Planet Earth. I’d put on sunscreen though.”

 “And miss the chance to get a tan?” She asked.

“Red, more like,” the Doctor teased. Donna actually giggled as she lightly punched his arm, but he could tell she was in a tizzy of excitement at the prospect of a completely normal, perfectly wonderful Earth beach. Something in the back of her mind wanted to tell her that it wasn’t going to be that easy, especially with a danger magnet like the Doctor, but it wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying every moment that she could.

“I’ll meet you right outside the TARDIS in ten minutes!” She exclaimed, dashing off to the corridor to grab the still unused beach things. “This is brilliant, thank you Doctor! Don’t forget to put on sunscreen, maybe a pair of shorts too!”

The Doctor watched with a fond smile as Donna disappeared into the corridor, still shouting reminders and exclamations excitedly at him. He stuck his hands into his pockets, tipetoeing on his heels for a moment. He loved moments like this with her, when she just couldn’t help but relish in the idea of a beach trip. He thought after everything they had just been through (what she’d been through, really), they deserved a beach trip. A nice beach trip to 15th century Asia. It would be perfect.

What could possibly go wrong?

End of Chapter One


	2. All of time and space, Asia not included.

“This. Is. Brilliant,” Donna sighed, stretching her legs out in the sunshine as she lay on a beach towel by the shore. The sun was somewhere far in the horizon, sometime just after lunch in Earth time. The Doctor had been more than happy to spread the sunblock across her back (she ignored how a little too eager he had been), so she was fully intent on soaking every bit of sunshine that she could. “You can go ahead and leave me here, I wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Yep,” The Doctor responded beside her, popping the ‘p’ in that last word. He managed to procure a couple of beach chairs from under the TARDIS grating, and was now lounging with her, sipping on a gigantic green coconut he’d plucked out of a tree with a quick whizz of the sonic screwdriver. The juice was sweet and fresh, still a little cool from the night before. The turquoise waters of the beach lapped against the shore like it was trying to reach out to the two travelers, tempting them to dive in. He’d swapped his usual pinstriped suit for a pair of shorts and a loose, flimsy t-shirt from a few regenerations ago. He had been tempted to put on an old-timey swimming costume, but decided that it wasn’t worth making Donna laugh at him.

“Oi, I was just kidding,” she said, tossing her sarong over him and giving him full view of her not so modest bathing suit. The Doctor tried not to look too hard, but from what he’d glanced, it made her cleavage look fantastic (not that it wasn’t usually fantastic, mind) and her body gorgeous, all shapely and toned from all that running and ducking. She didn’t think he was going to be able to sit still for very long and relax, and she had been right at first. Upon stepping out of the TARDIS, Donna saw the Doctor had been picking up driftwood from various parts of the beach, building a makeshift raft with of some vines he’d pulled from the jungle not too far behind them. He’d also set them up with the beach chairs and towels. There was tea in a mug waiting for her, with a bit of egg and toast. He’d only managed to sit down with her after nearly falling off the coconut tree. 

Donna spread the umpteenth layer of sunblock on her skin, in spite of the Doctor assuring her that Coppertone’s sunblock had vastly improved by the 51st century to be completely sunproof, she didn’t want to risk a burn. “I’m going for a dip. Coming, Spaceman?”

“Allon-zy!” He exclaimed, shooting out from under Donna’s sarong like a bullet, diving headfirst into the bright blue water in a loud bellyflop. Donna watched him for a moment, shaking her eyes from the sun with her hand like she was a mother watching out for her ten year old kid. The Doctor’s head popped up, his hair in wet, gravity-defying spikes as he ran his hair through it, grinning like he hadn’t just slammed his front into water. He squinted in the sunlight at her form, smiling even more. Donna took a few steps into the water, recoiling slightly and exclaiming, “Cold, cold, cold!” and promptly ran back out to the warm shore. The tide was low, meaning they had a long stretch of white, sandy beach before them. Donna could see fish jumping and flopping to the sides until they reached the ocean. She’d never thought she’d call a beach ‘alive’, but it was the only appropriate word for what she was looking at. She frowned and stood at the water’s edge. 

“Aw, it’s not so bad,” the Doctor said, holding out a hand to gesture her in. “You’ll get used to it. Come on, I think I can see some whalesharks near the deeper end.”

“What is it with you and these whalesharks?” Donna asked, marching back into the ocean and powering through the cold. She sank into the cool water and made her way towards him with a shiver. The Doctor’s demanor changed after her question. His shoulders slumped slightly, making him look all of his nine hundred years old, his hand making swirls in the water as he twisted it uncomfortably. 

“They become extinct in the 30th century,” he said as a matter of fact, but she could tell that it upset him more than he made it sound. “They’re hunted in some parts of the world, and they just…ran out. It’s just nice to see them all here, now, while they’re around, you know?”  
Donna smiled, like she completely understood. 

“Yeah,” she said, squeezing his shoulder slightly. She was just about to suggest they go out to the deeper part of the ocean when they heard the rustling of something that sounded like wet cloth whipping against a wind. There was also quite a lot of shouting. Frowning a little, Donna looked over at the Doctor, who was blinking at something in the horizon. 

“Now how did we miss that?” He asked nobody in particular, and Donna turned around to look at what he was looking at. 

“Oh my god,” she said in astonished awe, blinking against the sunlight that threatened her view. She wasn’t sure at what she was seeing, but she was pretty sure that it was an honest to god ship, the kind that she only saw in pirate films. “Doctor, that’s…that’s…”   
“A Spanish carrack,” the Doctor said with amusement and slight confusion. “What are they doing in fifteenth century…oh.” 

The flapping sounds had come from the massive sails whipping against the winds as they hung on to the two masts. The ship was smaller than she had imagined a ship would be, painted in a gunmetal grey that almost blended into the ocean. Flags of various colors and stages of disarray graced the ship’s sides. It was striding along the water like a proud, slightly wounded soldier. Along the deck, several curious eyes and heavy beards studied the Doctor and Donna, mystified at their current state. They were all shouting at them, their heavy, warbled intones still in their native language that TARDIS didn’t bother translating yet. It did, however, sound like something she would hear at a world cup final. They were also waving quite a lot of weapons around. She didn’t like that. 

“Oh??” Donna asked in disbelief, turning to the Doctor like he’d just said something spectacularly dim. Her hands splashed against the water as she turned to him. “Is that all you can say? We are swimming a hundred yards away from a Spanish pirate ship in the fifteenth century, they are screaming at us, with weapons, and all you can say is oh? Flipping oh?!”

“Not a pirate ship,” he pointed out meekly, like he knew he would get slapped for that. 

“What’s that?” she rounded over to him, glaring as icily as he could, almost daring him to talk.

“It’s not a pirate ship,” the Doctor repeated, a little braver this time. “It’s a proper Spanish carrack from the Age of Exploration. From the way it looks, and that name painted on the side, fairly certain that’s the Victoria, the first ship to make a trip around the world.”

“Well,” she seethed, ready to march back to the shore for the TARDIS. “I'm not gonna be the one to stop them exploring the world, so..."

"Fuego!" They heard a voice boom, a shot firing and almost blowing Donna's brains out. She stilled, her back ramrod straight as she reacted to the shot that just missed her, creating a great splash in the water. 

Then there was laughter, like they had just seen a cartoon gag on the telly. 

"So sorry about that mi amor," a rough voice called, carrying over the din of laughter. "Hand slipped. Not that often we see a vixen such as yourself." 

"Oh boy," the Doctor groaned, lowering his head into the water. A fleet of Spanish explorers didn't stand a chance against Donna Noble, and he wasn't about to watch.    
"Whassat you said, hombre?" Donna roared, turning to the ship again, bobbing along with the waves it was creating. "I am nobody's bloody vixen! Now you better leave us alone or invite us on to your ship or I swear I will kick you where the sun don't shine!" 

The laughing had reached some kind of fever pitch, and she could start to make out the language. Spanish accents were becoming less heavy, proper English being shouted across the waves. It seemed they were all completely concerned over why two people would be practically naked in the middle of the ocean. An object that Donna assumed was a floatie landed a bit close to them, a ladder flopping over the side of the ship for them to climb on. 

“Come aboard!” A particularly heavily bearded man with an unfortunate nose and thin eyebrows called to them. His cheeks were hollow and slightly sallow, like most of his men, but his gait and the feather in his metal cap told them he was a leader of some sort. The men continued to watch (Donna in particular, felt like a fish in a bowl) their rescue. 

“Where exactly are we, Doctor?” Donna asked as they both grabbed the floatie without question, their bodies bumping against each other as they were dragged towards the ship. The Doctor jutted out his chin in thought. Water sprayed on their faces as they bobbled, Donna felt very much like she was being dragged by a very old, slow speedboat. 

“I told the TARDIS to land us in Southeast Asia before the 20th century,” he said, shrugging. “Best beaches on Earth, top ten in all of time and space really, if you think about it. Well, that’s not counting the grassy beaches on Fallom Khoolab, or the intelligent sand on the 7th Moon of Kallista. Not sure why she decided to put us on Magellan’s last stop, but—”   
“Last stop?” Donna asked curiously. “What’d you mean, last stop? And Magellan, the explorer bloke?”

“Donna,” the Doctor sighed in mild exasperation. “Ferdinand Magellan was much more than an ‘explorer bloke.’ He basically closed all the edges of the map, made Earth much smaller than everyone thought was. He was Portuguese, but that didn’t stop him from going to the Spanish to help him fund his exploration. Circumnavigated the globe, he did. Well...kind of. It's debatable, really, considering--"   
“Like I said, explorer bloke,” Donna interrupted, knowing that the Doctor would have said more. She smiled as she noticed he tried not to fume. “Relax Doctor, I know who Magellan is. I’m just wondering why they’re willingly letting us on board their ship.”

She didn’t have to wonder too long, however. As they neared the top of the ladder, the Doctor paused and pulled something out of his trans-dimensional pocket, handing it to Donna quickly. It was a perfectly dry Balinese batik cloth, a perfect size for her to wrap around her body. 

“They must've thought I was naked in the water!” Donna realized, quickly wrapping the cloth around herself with one hand, for the first time, fearing their arrival on the Spanish ship. "God, how embarrassing."

The Doctor swung his legs easily over to the deck, hopping off the ledge. Without so much as a look towards the historic vessel's occupants, the Doctor reached over the deck to help his companion, who tried to keep her dignity intact as she came on deck. She tried to ignore the way some of the men licked their lips hungrily at her. She quickly realized that she was sopping wet, nothing but a flimsy patterned cloth separated her from the soldiers. The Doctor stepped in front of her protectively, as if shielding her from the view. The man who had called them his comrades came through the a part in the sea of Spaniards, his armor still shimmering despite hanging a bit loosely on him. A circumnavigation of the globe was tiring, and it showed his face, slightly sallow, dry lips and sunken eyes. His beard, however, was kept long and neat. His nose looked like it had been broken more than once already. Donna noted that if not for the feather in this man’s cap, she wouldn’t have been able to tell him apart from the other men presently on deck. 

"Gentleman, Lady," he said, spreading his arms wide for them. "God greet you well. My men alerted me to your presence, we thought you were being attacked by the whales. Which ship did you come from? Stowaways from the Trinidad? How did you manage to reach this island? We have been with Rajah Humabon in Cebu for quite some time now, surely we would have found you then."

"We're not stowaways," the Doctor corrected, splashing seawater around as he shook his head emphatically. "We're travelers. Hello, I'm the Doctor, and this is Donna Noble," he said, amicably shaking the stranger's hand, indicating for Donna behind him to do the same. She hesitated, but extended her hand anyway. Much to her surprise, the man kissed the back of her hand, bowing gallantly. "Alright alright, that's enough introductions," the Doctor said, practically prying Donna's hand away. “Like I said, we were just exploring the island. Any idea what it's called, Captain---?"

"My men address me as Commodore Magellan," he corrected, his beard twitching slightly as he glanced at the Doctor in his wet beach shorts. “You and your signora’s appearance is strange, Doctor Noble."

Suddenly both Doctor and Donna spluttered, shaking their heads and laughing off the great explorer. "No, no, no, no, no, never, no," she said quickly, waving her hand at Magellan in a dismissive gesture. “Not his signora.”

"Not a couple. Well, not married. Just the Doctor, please, for both our sakes," the Doctor stammered, and Magellan wasn't sure if he was referring to his and Donna's or the Doctor and Magellan's. There was something....not quite right about these two. While their Spanish was flawless, they spoke with little quirks of language that didn't settle well with him. He raised an eyebrow at them, still a bit dubious. But they knew how to speak Spanish, and if they had travelled all the way to this part of the world…

“Very well then,” he said, huffing slightly. “You both have come all this way. Might I ask if you speak the language of these people? I’m afraid my Malay servant Enrique finds translation a bit…difficult.”   
“Your what?” Donna asked, slightly scandalized, but the Doctor pat a spot on her wrist to calm her. She was huddled against his back, her fingers burrowed in her batik cloth as she hid her body behind the Doctor’s skinny frame. 

“You could say we speak a whole lot of languages, really,” the Doctor answered, tiptoeing slightly as he scratched his chin. He turned to his companion behind him, unable to hide the excited grin at the prospect of exploring an island with Ferdinand Magellan. “Wouldn’t you say that, Donna?”   
“Oh yeah,” she agreed, nodding. “Natural linguists, us. Like second nature.”

Donna wasn’t quite sure how, but she saw Magellan beaming behind his beard, nodding excitedly, more to himself than anyone else. 

“Wonderful, excellent,” he said, craning his head through the crowd of soldiers and sailors, looking for someone to accomodate to his newest crew. “We are about to go to shore, but perhaps before that, something to eat? I hope you like fish, our friends from Cebu were more than generous with the way they prepared it.”   
The Doctor had a look on his face like he was going to wholeheartedly accept the invitation to eat home-cooked fresh fish from the 15th century, but Donna cleared her throat quite loudly, making him pause and turn to her. He gave her a look that asked ‘what’ and she indicated his skinny, bare upper body, and her nice, shapely legs under the cloth, her hair still wet with seawater. It was a look that spoke volumes. 

“Oh, right, right,” the Doctor said, nodding in understanding before turning back to Magellan. “Actually Magellan, would you mind if we just drop back to the shore? We left our clothing in our…transport.”

So with a promise that they would meet on the shoreline after a few minutes, the Doctor and Donna jumped overboard the Victoria, laughing and giggling endlessly as they stumbled back into the TARDIS to dry off and change. The Doctor also made tea, so now he was sitting on the beach, his back against the TARDIS, looking out calmly at the cool, blue ocean. 

“Are we really going exploring with Ferdinand Magellan?!” Donna yelled from the inside of the TARDIS, where she was, presumably, changing. The ship was using some kind of echo ventriloquy to make it sound like Donna was changing in the console room when she was, in fact, several doors down in her own room. 

“We are going exploring with Ferdinand Magellan,” the Doctor confirmed, trying not to sound too eager. “I don’t really visit Asia when I go to Earth, for some reason I keep gravitating to England—weeellll, London really.” Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he visited Asia, in any time or space? Even Martha had mentioned going to Japan, Mongolia and China during the year that never was. All of those places he had never seen. He supposed that compared to the other planets, galaxies out there, going around Earth was nothing, but it was strange. “I haven’t seen that much of Earth, really. I much prefer visiting other galaxies, planets.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical, don’t you think?” Donna’s voice carried clearly like there was only one room on the inside. “If you had a brochure, it would read ’Come see all of time and space, Earth not included.’”

“Oi, we’re here now,” the Doctor said defensively, tossing the remainder of his tea in the bush behind him, leaving the mug beside the TARDIS. He didn’t bother with his coat, the day was warm enough as it is. 

“You do realize, Doctor,” Donna continued, her continued pacing in and around the room heard plainly. “That I’ve actually been to Egypt. That makes me more travelled than you.”   
“In Earth terms, maybe,” the Doctor muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t count!”    
Inside, Donna’s laughter echoed through the TARDIS like he had just made the funniest joke of all time. She was rushing and pacing about her room, looking for the sunscreen to toss into the Doctor’s pockets (she’d already had a water bottle, her mobile, his mobile, moqsuito spray and a hat in there, he was so handy), making sure she had everything they needed for their exploration. She wondered if they could get away with bringing her digital camera, she needed something to send to her Gramps, maybe a nice picture by the beach with Magellan? 

“Hurry up, Donna!” The Doctor called, rapping on the TARDIS door with his knuckles. He could see the Victoria’s rowboats coming up to the shore, Magellan standing at the head of the fastest rowboat, directing the others to pull up at the shore. The tide had come in at some point, making their docking smooth and easy. “They’re here!” 

“FIVE MINUTES, TIMEBOY!” Donna hollered from inside, her voice rattling the police box a bit. The Doctor jumped slightly, getting the hint. He stood up, brushing the sand off his trousers to greet their new travelling companions, leaving the mug and the blue box behind him. Their position in the jungle was a bit high, so he skidded along the sand until he saw Magellan squinting into the sunlight, looking for him. He had a group of about fifty men with him, which the Doctor thought was quite a lot for an exploration expedition. 

“Hello!” The Doctor exclaimed to the group, waving at them enthusiastically. “Donna said she’ll be five minutes.” 

End of Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the awkward chapter cut there. I wrote this as a long, singular...thing. :))


	3. Chapter 3

“Doctor,” Magellan said, looking his skinny frame in the blue suit up and down. He didn’t seem at all surprised that his new translator wore strange clothing. He indicated to the Doctor the man on his right. The Doctor observed his short, clean beard and his pointed, beak-like nose. He had a strange air of knowledge about him, and the Doctor could tell he was in front of a fellow intellectual—although what kind of intellectual, he would soon find out. “I’d like to introduce you to Antonio Pigafetta, our historian for this voyage. Antonio, this is the Doctor. He and his…assistant—“ 

“No, no no. Companion,” the Doctor quickly corrected, raising a hand to pause the commodore. He didn’t really like it when his companions were being called his assistant. Even more so with Donna, who would have protested harder than him. “Donna is my companion.”

“Of course,” Magellan said amicably, and nodded as if in understanding before he turned back to Pigafetta. “I suggest you stick close to the Doctor and Donna, so you don’t miss anything.”

Antonio Pigafetta had seen and written down a lot about their epic voyage, him and Magellan. But he had to admit that there was something about this strange man, the Doctor, that told him that things were about to get even more strange. The Doctor gave him the biggest grin he could supply, and Pigafetta had a feeling that his occupation had caught his new aquaintance’s interest. He leaned forward, barely cowering at Pigafetta’s larger frame, studying every twitch of his new aquaintance’s beard, looking at the flecks of ink on his ear. Something seemed to satisfy him there, because the Doctor held out a hand to Pigafetta, grinning broadly.

“Hello,” he said happily, grasping his hand and shaking so enthusiastially Pigafetta thought he was trying to wrench it off. “I’m the Doctor. Boy have I got questions for you, Antonio Pigafetta, historian of Magellan’s voyage! I’ve read about your—oh. Sorry. Sometimes I just get so excited to meet people that I forget not to cause a paradox. Let’s just say your description of penis implements was fascinating, but left a lot to the imagination. You mind if I ask you a few questions?”

He was waiting for Pigafetta to answer, barely noticing that the party was moving along the shoreline and into the jungle. Used to having questions fired at him, Pigafetta smiled good-naturedly and nodded. If Magellan trusted this man (and it seemed he did), there was no reason for Pigafetta not to. “Of course, Doctor. Please don’t hesitate to ask anything you like,” he said. The Doctor took this as his cue to start his barrage of questions.

“Excellent! Molto Bene! Now, can you tell me which island this is, and which side of the Pacific we’re actually on?” 

Pigafetta looked completely mystified at the Doctor and his questions, which the Doctor was completely used to. He got that from everyone, really. The historian regained his bearings and pulled at the bottom hem of his shift, his notebook and pen sliding up against him in the process.

“We are just a bit north of Moluccas Islands,” he said, showing the Doctor a very rough sketch of a map he had drawn in his notebook. “Another group of islands, but not as many spices as Moluccas. Rajah Humabon, the chief of this island,” he said, indicating the starting point on the map, “calls his land Cebu. And as for this island that we’re on now,” he continued. “They called it Mactan. It’s protected by a very rude, powerful datu (that’s their word for leader) who is said to be protecting a rare and precious gift from the gods.” 

“Gift from the gods?” the Doctor repeating, sliding his tongue along his teeth to show he was thinking. They had moved along deeper into the jungle now, their path cleared by the men walking ahead of them. “That’s interesting. Any idea what it is?”  Pigafetta shrugged. The Doctor seemed genuinely interested (or concerned?) about the mysterious object held by the people of Mactan. But there was something in his face that told the historian that he just really, really, really wanted to know what it is, without interest in taking it from the Spanish.

“Humabon doubts its authenticity, but it’s enough for Magellan to want to come here. Mactan has never been more bountiful as it is now, we heard rumors that their city was made of gold towers and their people wear their gold like it was a simple bauble!”

“Now that,” the Doctor said, putting emphasis on the second word. “Is very interesting. What do you think, Donna? Donna?” 

Antonio Pigafetta heard the Doctor mumble in a word he was sure was neither Spanish nor Catalan. He was just about to ask his co-explorer what he’d said when the Doctor broke off into a run, asking the men ahead of their had seen or heard head or tail of Donna Noble.

* * *

Donna’s eyes twinkled with excitement as she emerged from the TARDIS, fully dressed and dry. She had wrapped the Doctor’s lovely, patterned cloth around her waist under her jeans, trading her trainers for a comfortable pair of sandals encrusted with jewels from the Mermaids of the Tantuan ocean. She didn’t bother to straighten her hair, leaving her face framed by soft, red waves. She fully expected the Doctor to be waiting for her on the other side of the door, with Magellan’s men waiting as well.

She quickly realized, however, her expectations were about to be made unmet. A group of men crowded around the TARDIS, sniffing, poking it like it was the first time they saw a police box (she suddenly realized that it was, in fact, these poor blokes’ first time to see a police box). They all had brown, almost bronze skin, intricate tattoos on different parts of their bodies. They all had dark hair and dark brown eyes, all of them smaller built than Donna. She was slightly scared of them in their unfamiliarity, but she consoled herself in the fact that they were most likely human. What made her pause in admiration, though, was their jewelry. Each warrior was almost bathed in gold accessories, delicately hammered out into chains of belts, small rings and bracelets—she could definitely pick up a couple of things here if they decided not to kill her. The men carried with them long, sharp looking bamboo spears, muttering and whispering as they looked shocked at the TARDIS’ occupant. Donna stepped back a little, grasping the door handle behind her in case she needed a quick escape.

“Hello there,” she said to them, priding herself in the fact that if there was anything she could do, it was to talk. Hopefully the TARDIS could translate. “Donna Noble. Any of you seen a long, skinny, beanpole looking Martian calling himself a Time Lord?” 

All of the men’s eyes grew wide, and Donna suddenly had the sinking feeling that they knew exactly who the Doctor was. But the men surprised her again when they all threw shocked looks at each other before dropping to the ground, prostrating themselves, sinking low into the sand with their spears forgotten. Their arms were all stretched towards her, and they rose and sunk in a gesture she thought was just way too generous for her.

“Bathala!” They all called, almost chanting as they continued their ritual praise. “Andito si Bathala!” Donna was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing.

The next thing she knew, she was being carried. It wasn’t the usual sort of carried, the kind where some big, alien brute would lift her on his shoulders, while she kicked and screamed. No, this was something else entirely. Donna’s followers had decided to form a small, impromptu procession for their newfound stranger. Two of the men had formed a sort of chair by linking their big, strong arms, indicating Donna to sit. They seemed almost apologetic that this was all they could offer her.

“You want me to sit there?” She asked hesitantly, studying the makeshift chair. “Might be a bit heavy, boys.” 

“Bathala! Bathala!” They chanted again. One of the men, so muscular and so handsome he could have been on the cover of a romance novel, bravely took Donna’s hand, practically dragging her towards her throne. Donna threw the TARDIS a look, she thought she’d heard laughing coming from the ship. “Don’t even start,” she said, pointing a stern finger at the Doctor’s old girl. “You better start translating or else…” she wracked her brain, trying to think of something that might cause the TARDIS due harm.

But her train of thought was stopped abruptly by the men standing up. They carried Donna easily between two of them, as the rest picked up their spears, chanting almost happily as they marched into the jungle.

“Bathala! Bathala! Mabuhay Bathala!” Donna strained her ears, as if forcing herself to understand what they were saying. She held on to her transport’s hard, muscular shoulders, forcing herself to balance as she was being carried through a jungle.

“Bathala,” A voice behind her spoke, and she turned sharply. It was the handsome, romance novel boy, smiling shyly at her. It would have been endearing if she knew what the bloody hell was going on. “It is an honor to meet you.” 

“Oh thank god!” Donna exclaimed, so glad to have caught him that she almost fell out of her boy-chair. “You can speak English! No, wait…I can speak your language!” She laughed, resisting the urge to bounce in her seat. She’d never been so glad to have TARDIS translation so handy until now. She was turning into the Doctor. “That’s brilliant! Now can you tell your friends to let me down, handsome?” 

The boy, a little stunned at Donna’s words, shook his head vehemently, giving Donna a little bow. “Begging your pardon, Bathala,” he said apologetically. Donna noted that when they said Bathala, they were actually referring to her. Not a good sign. “We did not think a goddess such as yourself would want to walk on mere human soil.” 

“I can walk fine, thank you,” Donna said, patting the two men’s shoulders twice to let them know to let her down. She wobbled a little when she was set down, like she’d forgotten how to walk. Romance cover boy (she was calling him Fabio from now on) caught her quickly.

“Are you sure, your grace?” He asked, his brown eyes shimmering as they looked at her. Donna fought the indecent blush that crept to her cheeks and said nothing. She needed to focus. She needed perspective! She was being led through the jungle by a group of men—handsome men, now that she looked at them—who seemed to believe that she was some kind of goddess. The Doctor had obviously decided to go ahead and explore the jungles of a strange, foreign island without her. Not. Ideal. At. All.

"So tell me, Fabio," Donna said, carefully treading through the jungle, ignoring her captors' protests of their goddess walking on land. "Where are you taking me, exactly?" Fabio seemed dead chuffed to be the one Donna deigned to speak to. He puffed out his chest slightly and strode alongside her. "We will take you to the home of our leader, Lapu-Lapu," he explained plainly. "He will be quite pleased to see you, Bathala. We didn't expect you to come so soon, especially after we received your gift."

"My gift?" Donna asked, pausing and looking at Fabio's expectant, curious expression. "Oh, right, of course, that little...thing. How is it working out for you?"

At this, Fabio's expression seemed conflicted. He wanted to say something, but for fear of offending the goddess, kept mum on what was bothering him. He elected to smile broadly instead. "Our harvest and hunt has been bountiful ever since," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Our leader is worried that the other islands may become jealous of the gift you have bestowed on us, Bathala, especially after we refused the friendship of Rajah Humabon's guests."

The name sounded familiar to Donna, but didn't press the matter with Fabio. He continued to chat with her, telling her about Mactan, how happy the people would be to see her, how he hadn't imagined her to be that beautiful… _a little inappropriate, but who cares?_ Donna thought to herself. She had decided that the Doctor was going to find her eventually, so until she was in a dungeon or in some kind of life-threatening danger, she would just have to milk the goddess experience for all that it was worth. Maybe one of them could tell her where she could pick up that gorgeous gold necklace on Fabio's neck.

Eventually, the made it to some kind of clearing, leading to a large expanse of a town. Houses made of mud, leaves and wood, roofs swaying slightly in the wind, were lined against a large central road, which was bustling and busy with traders and natives alike. All of them chatteried and spoke to each other in clear English. Donna recognized quite a few Chinese among the traders, along with others who wore different clothing. Off to the side of the road, she saw a river that must have led to the ocean. The sides of the river were lined with boats, some still being painstakingly carved by the natives. All of them had the same adornments as Donna's companions, the women even exposing their breasts, some with babies suckling off them. Gold was apparently as ubiquitous as water, there was not one citizen of this strange island that didn't wear a gold ornament of some kind. Donna marveled and reveled in the strangeness of it all, trying to tamp down her fears.

"Any of you seen a Time Lord?" She asked the general vicinity, realizing that all of them were gaping at her. Some even dropped the things in their hands, as if completely shocked at her appearance. She realized that they were looking mostly at her hair. "Hasn't anyone ever seen a ginger before?" She muttered to herself, scowling. But after observing the sea of deep black hair and dark brown eyes among her observers, she slowly realized that it was, in fact, completely possible for these people to have never seen a ginger before. Which was probably why they thought she was this Bathala character.

Right.

END OF CHAPTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed, yes the cuts of the chapters are a bit weird--I'm cutting the story as I go along. Haha. The next chapter features mostly the meeting of Donna and Datu Lapu-Lapu, so stay tuned!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments or kudos! I very much welcome both. :D


	4. Chapter 4

The people began to crowd around her, all of them yelling unintelligible words. It seemed even the TARDIS was having a hard time translating. They were all trying to touch her, speak to her, tear off a piece of her clothing. Someone tried to tug at the Doctor's batik cloth on her waist, and she forcefully tugged back, her eyes blazing.

"Oi, paws off the merchandise!" She shouted, tying the cloth more securely on her waist to keep it from being pulled. Suddenly, her sea of admirers all flinched, looking worried almost...afraid of Donna. She immediately regretted yelling at them, quickly forgetting that they all believed her to be a benevolent goddess. She opened her mouth to say something in a form of apology when Fabio stood in front of her, much like the Doctor did on Magellan's ship.

"Please, step back!" He ordered, his voice booming like the voice of authority. "Bathala is not used to being among her people, give her some room!"

"I would listen to him, if I were you," Another one of the men said, standing a little straighter. "Wouldn't want to turn into a baboy damo, would you?"

That made the people scurry back to what they were doing before their arrival, still throwing occasional glances at their flame haired goddess. Donna looked apologetic, brushing her fingers against the cloth on her waist to find a little bit of comfort. She suddenly missed the Doctor, who certainly would have been more diplomatic than this. He would have chattered away excitedly at the natives, finding out as much as he could about their culture while telling her everything he knew about them. She sighed. They walked just a bit further, this time, the men insisted on carrying her to avoid another crowd. Once she’d been hefted onto her human chariot, all the while protesting that she was too heavy, Fabio stopped in front of her and bowed again quickly.

“We will take you to Lapu-Lapu now,” he informed her, giving her an easy, hopeful smile. Donna wasn’t sure she deserved that, or any of this. In the center of the town, rising high above all the other structures, was a tall, majestic building, with several intricately carved citadels, and water streaming out of tunnels that flushed back to the river. She would call it a castle, but it wasn’t quite the right word. Was it some kind of temple? The structure was made of raw marble, stone and gold, glinting off the sunlight so brightly that Donna didn’t know how she had missed it when she first arrived. There were beautifully carved spires by the entrance, leaves, foliage and flowers growing on eaves. She blinked once, twice, just to make sure that she wasn’t just imagining it.

“Bloody hell,” she said, more to herself than anyone. Beside her, Fabio chuckled, the tattoos on his well-defined chest rippling as he laughed.

“I am glad you approve of our citadel, Bathala,” He said, nodding at the men beside him as they started to climb the several steps that apparently led to where Lapu-Lapu.

Donna was never really the smartest biscuit in the tin, she would have failed most of her History modules in school if Tawny Lovett hadn’t helped her cheat on a couple of tests. But she was pretty sure that the Hanging Gardens of Babylon were supposed to be somewhere in the Middle East, not in some island in the middle-of-nowhere, Southeast Asia. Was this the gift that Fabio had mentioned?

“We never could have created this structure without the help of Datu Lapu-Lapu,” Fabio continued. He had the habit of chattering on, much like a certain skinny Martian that had yet to find her. “He said that the gift you gave him enabled him to create this haven, for all of his people.” 

“Really now?” Donna asked sardonically, brushing a hand against a carved statue in gold, standing on the side of a hallway. “Why are all those people living on those tiny huts outside this citadel, then?” For the second time that day, Fabio’s face turned somewhat dark, again refusing to say something he clearly wanted to. He, however, failed to give Donna the standard brush off he had become so practised with because they reached Lapu-Lapu’s wing.

“Datu,” Fabio said, bowing slightly at their leader. “We have found her.” 

The Datu of Mactan was sitting at the far end of the room, his head wrapped in several colorful scarves and cloths, gigantic gold medallions on his ears. His hair was long and scraggly, flowing down to his sides as he looked up at them. His face was rugged and handsome, and he was beardless, much like his people. But what Donna didn’t fail to notice, however, were his tattoos. While his people were adorned in delicate designs with black ink, Magellan’s skin was alight with gold tattoos, shining as brightly as the temple. Donna could see the gold swirling through him, like she could see his blood. It was creepy and beautiful at the same time. Magellan had a kind, easy smile. Charming but still kind of tough. If he was elated to see their supposed goddess, it didn’t show.

“Bathala,” He said, his voice rich and deep as he stood up and bowed at Donna. “I am so glad you have come. I have much to—would you mind leaving us, gentlemen? Thank you for finding her, Fabirio.” 

“Seriously?” Donna asked, raising an eyebrow at Fabio, who threw Lapu-Lapu a look, bowed and left the room along with the other soldiers. Lapu-Lapu actually smiled a bit fondly, the first time Donna saw him express an emotion.

“You have to forgive my son,” he said, sitting back down and urging Donna to sit across from him with the chair one of the warriors had pulled up. “He’s worried about…well. Everything.” 

“Tell me about it,” Donna said kindly, choosing her words carefully, trying to think of ways to let this guy know that she needed information (and a way to find the Doctor or get back to the TARDIS) without necessarily letting him know that she wasn’t actually what they all seemed to think she was. The Datu seemed to see something in her, some kind of spark that she didn’t believe was there. He sighed, and his shoulders sagged in a way that made Donna think that they never had the chance to do that before. His tattoos moved with him, the gold liquid flowing through him in a way that told Donna there was definitely something alien going on here.

“I am very grateful for your gift, Bathala,” He said, and he was choosing his words carefully as well. “Our island, our people, have flourished because of it. We built this temple in three weeks, and all for you, to show our faith in you!” Donna swallowed a lump in her throat that she didn’t know had been there. Whoever this Bathala really was, it had really dedicated followers.

“The other islands have not been as loyal,” Lapu-lapu said darkly, leaning forward and resting his tired chin on the tops of his hands, his elbows resting on his laps. “One word from the lips of this foreign character, and they are all giving up your name, burning your altars, paying tributes, swearing allegiance, all on their knees for this…God.” The word spat out of his tongue like a curse, and Donna had to shiver at his intensity. She would have been afraid, but she knew that he was just a very, very sick man. His body was clearly wearing down, sweat beaded his forehead despite his cool surroundings, and he was wheezing.

“I’m sorry…” she said, trying not to be insensitive. “But…did you just say…God? As in…our father in heaven? Sweet baby Jesus and all that?” 

Lapu-Lapu looked up at her in surprise, as if shocked that his god knew the bloke the other people were trying to pray to. “Magellan has swayed the Cebuanos and the Homonhons with his pretty words and idols. But you have given us a gift, Bathala. This sickness you have given me only proves to strengthen my resolve. I intend to use to show the other islands to remind them to keep their faith.”

Donna frowned. She had been travelling with the Doctor long enough to know that declarations like that were not good—never good at all. Her history was coming back to her now. The Spanish were just one of the many countries going around the globe, claiming land, claiming territories for themselves. They didn’t care that there were people already living there, just living out their quiet lives until their lives were upended by these ‘explorers.’

“Tell me what you need from me, datu,” she said, hoping she got the pronunciation correct. Lapu-Lapu seemed pleased. He managed to stand, slowly beckoning Donna to follow him into the next room. It had to be the most beautiful room in the citadel.

The ceiling was at least ten feet high, vines and leaves growing down to create a dim roof over the room. The rest of the walls were actually just pillars that opened up to the rest of the island below, giving Donna a fantastic view of the beach on one side, and jade mountains on the other. There was food spread out for her, a whole roasted pig, varieties of fish, and several mounds of colorful vegetables and fruits all laid out on a massive banana leaf. At the center of the room was a four poster bed, brimming with deep purple silk, probably soft to the touch and heaven to sleep in. Lapu-Lapu watched her eyes, tying to read her expression. She didn’t have to though.

“Oh, look at this!” She exclaimed, rushing around the room, touching everything her fingers could reach. There was also an array of silks and woven cloth laid out for her, with her own set of all the gold jewelry she wanted to adorn on herself. “That view is a-flipping-mazing! And are these silk sheets? Oh, tell me these aren’t silk sheets…”

“You are pleased,” Lapu-Lapu noted, smiling at Donna’s obvious glee, her batik cloth already folded and abandoned by the bed as she picked out a piece of gold and red fabric. “Right first time,” she said, giggling as the leader sat himself on one of the carved wooden chairs, breathing raggedly.

“I bloody love this.”  She resisted the urge to roll around in the bed, in raptures over the room that was fit for a goddess. She felt incredibly unworthy, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try and enjoy it. Lapu-Lapu watched the supposed deity exclaim over the little human delights they mananged to provide for her, unable to help but feel pride blossom in his heart before he bent at the waist with a cough. He felt so worthy to see his god like this. How could the other islands just abandon her, forget about her?

“Easy there, sunshine,” Donna said, immediately at his side, helping him sit up. “Do you need anything? Water?”

“Your presence is more than enough,” he said reassuringly, placing a gold-laced hand on hers, squeezing slightly. Then he pulled something off of his neck, a little bauble that Donna hadn’t seen before, and placed it in her hand.

In retrospect, Donna learned that this was the moment when everything went absolutely pear-shaped. She had been handed a small crystal the size of a pencap, roughly cut and heavy in her hand. It was tinted black, and it glowed. As all alien things tended to do.

“Your gift has been restored, Bathala,” Magellan whispered, watching in awe as Donna’s face became blank, still leaning over to help the datu. Her fingers curled around the crystal, allowing it to take possession of her. Her eyes blazed gold, and she promptly fainted.

“DATU!” Fabio yelled, running into the room like his bare feet were on fire. Shock and worry filled his eyes at the sight of Donna of the floor, casting glances from her to his father. But it seemed he had something more pressing at hand than seeing their god unconscious on the floor. “Father, our men have seen Magellan’s ships on our coast. They are coming.”  Lapu-lapu’s face darkened, the gold in his body pulsed and vibrated to the same rythms as the crystal in Donna’s hand. They would see. They would all soon see that Bathala was a force to be reckoned with. When those Spanish come for them, the men of Mactan will be ready.

* * *

When the Doctor realized that Donna was missing, he was at a loss as to where he should start looking for her. He was sure that she would have stormed off somewhere once she realized that he hadn’t waited for her (he was going to get an earful for that), but to where? What if she was kidnapped, in a dungeon, lost, or hurt or…run off with a native, got married and had several ginger haired babies? Sure it seemed like a major overstatement now, but something about the idea of Donna giggling and holding hands with someone else made the Doctor grip his sonic and point, ignoring the looks Magellan’s men gave him when they saw his strange device. Particles of the Vortex left traces on himself and Donna as evidence of their time travel. If he could just adjust the frequency of the sonic to that…

“Uhm…Doctor?” Pigafetta asked curiously, suddenly beside him. He recoiled slightly at the annoyed look the Doctor threw him. Magellan was just in front of them, the Doctor hadn’t noticed that the entire party had stopped moving.

“What?” the Doctor snapped, nearly slapping Pigafetta across the face with his screwdriver. Not the first time that has happened. “What, what is it?” 

“Several things,” Pigafetta said, holding out a map and showing it to him. “One, it would seem that we are lost. The map Humabon made us is not completely accurate. Two, for the purposes of my entries…what is that wand you have, and why is it glowing?” 

They both eyed the screwdriver, not noticing that the whole group was watching them carefully, wary of the stranger and his device. Magellan strode forward, pointing a cutlass at the Doctor’s throat to get him to talk. Guns pointed at his face. The Doctor balked.

“Hang on,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender, the screwdriver still humming between his fingers. “Let’s not be too hasty, eh? It’s just a screw—hang on, it isn’t yet, this is a device you use to put up cabinets, er…drawers? It’s just sonic, more…noisy than what you would usually use. Nothing special, see?”

The Doctor held up the device, which chose that exact time to squee and whirr with its blue light flashing. It had apparently gotten hold of Donna. “It’s also telling me that the right way, is that-a-way,” he said, pointing towards a jungle path on the left side. “Allons-y!”

They continued through the jungle, Magellan following after the whims of a madman. As they continued to walk, he could see his other men grumbling at his faith in this stranger. Pigafetta began to look nervous as he scribbled on his notebook, noting down the doubts of the crew. Juan Sebastian Elcano, who led a mutiny with the captains of the ships Concepcion and the Santiago only months prior, was espescially vocal in protest. Magellan hushed them all with a glare.

“I believe he was sent to us by God, guiding us to find a way to defeat our enemy Lapu-Lapu.”  The Doctor paused in his tracks, his shoes crushing the dirt beneath him as he suddenly jerked around.

“What did you just say?”  Magellan blinked at him like it should have been obvious.

“You believe in the will of God, do you not, Doctor? It is His will that we come here to Mactan, destroy their temples and their false idols and use our strength to claim their land for the glory of Spain. God has created this burden on us, and we have no choice but to comply.” 

Suddenly, the Doctor slowly came to grasp the history lesson that he had been missing all this time. “Oh no,” he said, dropping his hand suddenly as his face turned pale. “Oh no no no no! I am a bloody idiot!” He exclaimed, smacking his hand to his forehead. He turned and glared at the squadron of fifty. No wonder Magellan brought such a large expedition party. He was leading an assault. There would be no friendship here. It was the Battle of Mactan, where Magellan would die and the Philippines would be without a colonizer for a few more years. It was a battle that would be myth and legend, stories passed along generations for decades to come. The Battle of Mactan was a fixed point in time. All the Doctor could do at this point was to find Donna and get them both out. “Everything alright, Doctor?” Magellan asked lightly, like he wasn’t about to walk into his own death.

“That’s what it’s all been about then, eh?” The Doctor asked the commodore, his teeth showing as his eyebrows creased in anger. “Gold, God and glory. This isn’t about making a voyage across the world—this is about conquering it. Oh what a bloody fool I was. See, funny thing this old brain, sometimes you just forget irrelevant parts of history. I mostly block out what I know about Asia since I rarely come here anyway, and yet here you are, walking through one of the most beautiful places in all of time and space—only to burn it down in the name of Spain, in the name of God.” His voice lowered, and there was a thunderous look on his face, making some of the men cower in fear. Magellan seemed undeterred. “Typical human behavoir.”

“What are you trying to say, Doctor,” Magellan asked, holding out his cutlass again. “You dare defile the name of Spain?”  The Doctor looked at the cutlass like he was staring down a harmless toy.

“Oh put that away, Magellan. You’re Portugese, Pigafetta’s Italian, I’m…well, I’m not from here. Your threats don’t work on me. I am going off to find my friend, and leave you to create history. But know that these people did nothing to deserve your ‘guiding hand.’”

Then with a final, chilling glare, the Doctor ran ahead, the sonic screwdriver still ringing in his hand. He had to find Donna and soon. He didn’t want her to see any of this. He kept running, hanging on to the sounds the screwdriver was making to direct his steps, not noticing the sharp cuts of branches against his cheek, the leaves slicing across his suit. He just knew he had to get to Donna somehow, wherever she was. His hearts hammered in his chest, pumping with adrenaline and fear. Where could she have gone? She couldn’t have gotten this deep into the jungle on her own.

He reached a clearing soon enough, hanging over a landscape he didn’t recognize. He didn’t miss the too massive, too gold and slightly alien citadel in the center of the town. He curled his upper lip in frustration. The screwdriver was pointing right to the tip of the towers. Not good. Was this supposed to be here? He could see Magellan’s men marching up to the town, their silver armor shining off the sunlight, their swords at the ready. The town was devoid of most people. Apparently, the Datu of Mactan knew that his enemy was coming. The Doctor’s frown deepened even more as he saw the form that the Datu had taken. His body was now almost completely covered in pulsing, thrumming golden light, glittering in the sun. He was flesh wrapped in gold, the man poisoned by whatever it was that was trying to take him over. He stood at the middle of the tower, standing over the Spaniards like a god looking over his people.

“Lapu-Lapu!” Magellan called, raising his sword at the Datu without fear. He probably thought that Magellan was simply wearing some kind of golden armor. His Spanish bellowed across the landscape. Enrique, his Malay servant, struggled to translate in broken English, hesitating and speaking not as loudly. “You have refused the friendship of the King of Spain, refused to pay proper tribute and remain a heretic! May God have mercy on yours and your peoples’ souls.” 

“Refusal is my prerogative,” Lapu-Lapu boomed back in perfect Spanish. Definitely something wrong there. “You come here with your swords and guns and faulty armor. I have Bathala on my side.”  There was a loud boom that reverbated through the air as Lapu-Lapu crossed his arms over his chest. His markings glowed and pulsed the intricate symbols danced. The Doctor stumbled, managing to keep his balance despite the others falling on their backs. Several things had happened. First was that whatever sort of power (the Doctor refused to say it was magic) Lapu-Lapu used, it managed to create fissures in the ground in front of the town, preventing the Spaniards from coming closer. Second, as the Doctor looked towards the beach, was that sharp, jagged rocks had protruded from the ocean, pointing high into the sky. He could see the Victoria’s grey body falling backwards as the crew struggled to stay away from the sharp rocks. Help was no longer coming to Magellan. He had no cannons, no backup crew. The stage for the battle was set. But what was this new element that had come in? Certainly the Doctor would have known if Lapu-Lapu was not from Earth.

“She has come to save Mactan as a reward for our faith,” Lapu-Lapu said, his voice intoned in a manner that made the Doctor think that it wasn’t really the datu talking. “If you dare to come forward, our godess will not hesitate to strike you again. The flames in her hair will burn your ships to the ground. Her warmth and her sharp tongue will protect us from your swords.”

 Oh no. Pushing his soles into the dirt, he dashed down the cliff and straight for the temple. He had to find her. He just had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters have officially caught up with me. Uh oh.


	5. Chapter 5

This. Was. Heaven.

Donna was completely right about the silk sheets, they felt exquisite. She had never felt so relaxed just lying in bed, looking up into the sunlight pouring through the roof. Someone gave her a cup of cool sugarcane juice and she was sipping it to stave off the heat. She held up her hand, brushing her fingers across the bougainvillea flowers that snaked around the posts on the bed. Then she noticed something on her hand. It was a delicate, intricate pattern that looked floral and symbolic at the same time. She couldn’t stop looking at it. It was so…beaufitul. It moved and pulsed like it was alive, like it was part of her. When did she get that?

Donna brushed her fingers against the bougainvillea again, and she realized that it was blooming. Right into her hand, the flowers wrapping itself around her arm like a corsage. How was she doing that? Her head spun slightly at the action, her hand shaking as she struggled to keep a hold of her cup. Suddenly she felt weak, so weak.

“Are you alright, Bathala?” Sita, the young babaylan priestess assigned to her asked. She knelt next to Donna, her bright brown eyes wide in concern. Donna slowly realized that she was lying in bed because she couldn’t get up. She was drinking sugarcane juice because she was dizzy and sick.

“Wha’s happening?” She asked Sita in a daze, her hand flopping to the bed. The crystal on her neck weighed her down like lead. She had to do something, anything.

“You’re saving us, Bathala,” Sita said hopefully, putting her glass to the side. She helped Donna sit up, brushing a cool cloth over her forehead. “Your power will defend us from these invaders. Generations will sing about he day you saved all of Mactan, that you came in our aid. We need you.” 

“I don’t think I can, Sita,” Donna sighed, leaning heavily into the bed. If she was dying (and on the back of her mind she felt she was), then there was no point in pretending. She had to come clean to them. “I’m not a goddess, I’m just a silly temp from Chiswick, I don’t mean anything to anyone, really.”

It was true. Her foggy brain told her to just stop and let the power take over her, like a tempting whisper in the back of her mind. It was telling her to just give in, let it take over to save Mactan from the Spaniards. It told her to change history, that she could do it.   

Sita frowned, her dark hair shimmering as her own inky black tattoos moved with her body. She touched Donna’s arm hesitantly, squeezing when she saw that Donna did not flinch.

“You are the most important person in the universe, Bathala,” she whispered as if in a trance. “You will save, and have saved us all. You will save us all. You have saved us all.”  “You know I want to believe that,” Donna sighed, not really knowing what that meant. She really wished she could be that special.

“But I’m not what you think I am, I—“ 

Suddenly the doors burst open, and the Doctor was pushed in, his hands bound and his face murderous. Behind him, Lapu-Lapu blazed, his body was like the second sun on some planet Donna couldn’t remember seeing. Donna choked out a sob she didn’t realize she was holding. The Doctor’s face softened into fear and concern, his body deflating at the sight of her. What had they done to her?

“I have brought you a servant, Bathala,” Lapu-Lapu said happily, as if to reward her for a job well done with the Spaniards. “He’s a bit skinny, but he should be able to provide you with your…needs. We caught him spying around the palace and—“

“Donna,” the Doctor said in a strangled voice, shrugging off his captor’s grasp and coming to her side. He was about to sit next to her, but Sita stood in the way, holding her tattooed arms out at him, her gold bangles clattering as she moved. The priestess looked angry that this stranger dared to come foward, but the Doctor’s glare was angrier. Rage lit his eyes like a fire, but Sita did not cower.

“No, it’s alright, Sita,” Donna protested weakly, pushing herself up. “Let him in.”

Sita cast Donna a glance like she wasn’t completely happy to acquiesce, but followed anyway. The Doctor brushed past the babaylan and knelt beside Donna, taking her hand and gripping it so tightly she thought he was trying to snap it off her wrist. If she was floating away (and it certainly felt like it), she was sure the Doctor wasn’t going to let her.

“Spaceman—“ she began. What could she say? She was so happy to see him. This skinny streak of alien madness was the closest thing she had to home now, and seeing her best friend, holding his hand was just so comforting. Donna had never been so happy to see his face, his ridiculous brainy specs and his trusty screwdriver. He was even wearing that nice brown pinstripe suit in the middle of this heat. The marking on her hand glowed as she smiled, the crystal on her chest glowing as well. The Doctor’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Stop, Donna,” he snapped, checking her pulse, the screwdriver whirring in his hand as he pointed it at her. She pulled her hand away and groaned. The bloody Martian was thick, thick as a bleeding barn door. Irritation flashed in Donna and she glowered at him. Didn’t he understand that she was just gappy to see him? “You’re making it worse. There’s another symbol appearing on your arm, you have to…”

That last sentence sounded a little too wrought and desperate. Donna wondered if she was actually seeing the fear in his eyes. She could barely register his hand reaching out for hers again, brushing the back of her palm with his thumb. She saw the flower on the back of her hand twist painfully, travelling painfully down the skin of her arm until a delicate feather pattern in gold appeared. Donna wanted to throw up. The Doctor pointed the screwdriver at the feather, and Donna actually groaned in pain.

“Stop. Bleeping. Me,” she commanded, waving a hand, making the screwdriver fly out of the Doctor’s grasp like he had thrown it aside himself. The Doctor did not look amused, and neither did Donna. She was pale, so pale. She was never meant to come in contact with the crystal. After what she had done against Magellan, he was shocked there were still only two markings on her hand.

“Like I told the datu,” the Doctor said, giving Lapu-Lapu a glare. He turned back to Donna, his face more wracked with concern than anger now. She didn’t know why he was looking at her so disparaged, shouldn’t he be happy she was saving the people of Mactan? This was the kind of thing they did on a daily basis!

“What they found is a stark crystal from Khanoor, not too far from the homeworld of the Sontarans. This remnant must have come from one of their wars, scattering across the galaxy like pollen. The crystal absorbs the anger, rage and bloodthirst of its warriors and turns it into weapons, which they use to invade and conquer other planets. On other species it may not be too dangerous, but on humans, on your goddess…” he said a little too fondly, giving Donna a small smile. He still wanted them to believe that she was special, important, brilliant. But why? Donna wondered.

“She’s dying, Lapu-Lapu, and so are you,” the Doctor told him sadly, finally standing up. “ Your body is being poisoned by the metals the crystal produces in the body. Please, just…let her go. I can’t help you, you’re too far gone but your goddess…” he turned to her. “I need to save your goddess.”  Donna dropped her head against the pillows, her hand slipping out of the Doctor’s grasp.

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head.

“What?” The Doctor recoiled.  

“I. Said. No,” Donna said firmly, using all her strength to speak. “I can help them Doctor, I can.” 

The Doctor looked at her frantically and in slight disbelief. This was what other people must feel like when he becomes stubborn. He knelt down again.

“No you can’t,” he said in a low, urgent whisper. “This is a fixed point in time, Donna. We can’t change what happens to this country, to this place.” 

“Like Pompeii?” She asked. It was a simple question, but there was so much in that question that the Doctor’s heart wrenched.

“Yes,” he said softly, even he hated the answer. “Like Pompeii.” 

He saw defiance in her eyes. Anger. She wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“S’not fair,” she said, frowning deeply. She cast a quick glance at Sita, at Lapu-Lapu, at Fabio. They didn’t deserve what was happening to them, history be damned. She could help them make sure that the Spanish never touch their lands again. “Sure they win now, but the Spanish will come back, and that’s just not fair. History can be changed. I can change it today, Doctor. Just go into the TARDIS and fly away, close your eyes, leave me alone…” 

“Donna Noble,” the Doctor said, trying to sound angry, but it came out more frustrated than anything else. He knelt beside her again. He spoke in soft, dulcet tones, despite mentally asking the TARDIS not to translate what he was saying. “My beautiful Donna Noble. We all wish we could change history, save everyone. And you, brilliant you, are willing to put these people ahead of you! That’s more than any ordinary human would have done.” He willed that she believed him, that somehow she would listen and understand. How could she not see it?

“But I am never going to leave you alone. I made a promise to Wilf that I would take care of you like you do for me, and I am not going to let you alter history like this. That’s not what we do, that’s not what I do.” Donna sighed deeply, almost in disappointment. The Doctor’s hearts broke in a way that was all too familiar to him, but still so painful. She was just beginning to understand the burden he bore as a Time Lord. He had hoped she never would.

“Okay Spaceman,” she said, her eyes fluttering closed. “I’ll follow your lead.” 

Then she passed out, her hand dropping form his as her skin turned deathly pale. He felt his insides go cold as he realized she was becoming more affected by the heavy metal poison from the crystal. He reached out to yank the chain from her neck when Lapu-Lapu and Sita launched forward, the bigger, stronger Datu prying the Doctor away from Donna as he yelled, kicked and screamed for her.

“Let her go!” the Doctor screamed as he was passed along to Fabio who held him down. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

“I know I am saving my people, Doctor,” Lapu-Lapu spat at him, standing in front of Donna like a gold shield to protect her. “My people will sing for generations about what Bathala and I have done. My legacy will be the protection of Mactan, my sacrifice to keep them safe from harm.” He turned towards Fabio. “Put him in the dungeons. Sita, be sure that Bathala is ready for battle.” 

* * *

That’s how the Doctor found himself fuming inside a hot, damp cell in the bottom of an alien temple that was never meant to be there. As far as dungeons and cells went, this wasn’t exactly on his top ten, but it wasn’t in his least ten either. There was a small window that gave him a view of the three storey drop to the town. His cell was isolated from the others, but he could still hear talking in the background. He groaned in frustration, wiping his face with his hand as he tried to think his way out of this dilemma. He could see the timeline heading to that direction that just flashed wrong wrong wrong into his brain. Magellan had to be the only casualty here.

_Scratch scratch scratch._

He somehow had to get out of the cell, back up to Bathala’s chamber and get the poison out of Donna’s body before Lapu-Lapu could use her to completely destroy Magellan and his men. Of course he could just wing it, see what happens. That seemed to be his usual MO.

_Scratch scratch scratch._

He brought out the sonic screwdriver from his pocket. The locks should be easy enough to manipulate. With the attack of the Spaniards upcoming, every able bodied person under Lapu-Lapu’s guard was getting ready for battle so he was in the clear.

“Hooray for trans-dimensional pockets, eh?” he said to nobody in particular. Then he held up his device and pointed.

_Scratch scratch scratch_.

“Will you stop that racket?!” The Doctor barked, pushing himself off of the floor and gripping the gold bars of his cell. He caught a glimpse of his dungeon mates across the hall, looking at him in shock, like they had no idea that he was there in the first place.

“Sorry,” a dark skinned man with few tattoos said, pulling back where he had been trying to jimmy the lock with some kind of sharp coil of metal. “We were just trying to get out of here.” 

“You’ll be safer in here, with the battle about to happen outside,” the Doctor pointed out. Everyone in the cell shook their heads, casting glances at each other to make sure they did the same. Apparently being safe was not their top priority.

“We will not be safe from Bathala’s anger in here,” the man said, his body trembling at the thought of Donna’s supposed power. The Doctor joked about it a lot, and he actually laughed at how afraid these people were of Donna Noble. The people in the cell blinked at him. They just realized that they were talking to a madman with a magic light stick. A shaman perhaps from the Spanish, come to save them? “Her anger has possessed our datu, turned him mad. Will you save us, take us to the Spanish God?”

“Trust me,” said the Doctor, finishing up his work against the lock and easily stepping out of the cell. “Bathala’s anger is the least of your worries for now. And I’m not for any god, in some places they think I’m a god, but that’s far far far away in another galaxy, no need for you to think about that, really.”

“All Lapu-Lapu wants is to be remembered as a hero,” the man said, shaking his head in disappointment, watching the Doctor hover towards the exit. “He has allowed himself to be completely consumed for that cause.”

There was a whirring sound and their cell door unlatched and swung open. The Doctor let all the prisoners pass in front of him, but the man from the cell knelt before him in praise. “I’m not your god,” he said firmly. He hated this more than a salute. “Now go and protect your people.”

* * *

As the man ran off, the Doctor began to pat his pockets, looking for something he could use to convince Lapu-Lapu to give him Donna. There was nothing more he could do about Magellan, but he had to bring Donna to the TARDIS. Would he be willing to talk?

“Your persistence is admirable, Doctor,” Lapu-Lapu said, standing in the hallway like he had been waiting for the Doctor to show up all afternoon. His body lit up the whole room. He had his spear in hand, his stance ready for the legendary battle ahead. He greatly resembled a statue already, awaiting awe and praise of his legend. “You must deeply care about Bathala to fight for her like this.” 

“I do,” the Doctor said, without even thinking about it. It was something he had told himself so often and so many times that saying it out loud, now, felt as easy as breathing. He cared about Donna. Maybe he could say that he loved her, if he deserved to feel such a thing. “You spoke of Bathala’s gift, the stark crystal, you called it,” Lapu-Lapu said, testing the foregin words on his tongue. “Do you come from the same place that Bathala does?” 

_Where I come from is much more than what you think_ , the Doctor wanted to say, but kept silent, only nodding. He wasn’t sure what Lapu-Lapu was thinking, or why he had decided to wait for him. “You are both not from here, then. Crystals, telepaths…both you and Bathala are beings from other worlds and other times. You must know the outcome of this battle, do you not?” He asked, asking about the future so nonchalantly that the Doctor had to blink. What was going on here? This Lapu-Lapu was curious and studied, worried for his people in a different way than what he had seen.

“Please…please tell me what happens.” 

There was a vulnerability there that the Doctor had never seen before. Lapu-Lapu still stood rigid, every muscle in his body taut and held like he was restraining himself. The Doctor realized that Lapu-Lapu’s statue-like stance was beause he was trying to keep control of his own body. The stark crystal was taking over all of his emotions, eating away at his fear and doubt, turning him into a mad savior. Donna just happened to walk in and give him a reason on pass the crystal on to her. Now, Lapu-Lapu was still fighting for control of his own body. A true leader coming out from the shadows of his own fears.

“Magellan dies,” the Doctor said blankly, putting his hands in his pockets. “People will say that it was you, but we both know that that’s impossible, given your condition. The Spanish will leave you alone for a while, but they will return. The Age of Exploration affects the whole world, Lapu-Lapu. Your people will change, abandon the old ways, but make use of that knowledge to make it better. You will be the country’s first hero. People will remember you as the man who first defended his country. They will make movies out of your story, write about it and recount it to every soul that comes to this place! Your legend will be about your leadership, not your faith.”

The Doctor strode forward, confident that this man would no longer be of any harm to him. His nose was practically touching the shorter, stronger leader’s.

“The goddess and I know that you do not need silly baubles or crystals to defend your people,” He muttered. “And I think now, you do too.” 

The glow around Magellan’s body weakened, freezing in his veins. His shoulders relaxed, and he looked at the Doctor like this was the first time they had ever met. The gold was still there, but now that the fear was gone, the crystal’s effects stopped.

“Thank you,” he said to the Doctor. “Bathala is in her chambers. She was asking for you. There’s a passageway in the back that should lead you away from the fighting.”

The Doctor had never been more eager to run away.

* * *

Something was trying to pull her down into the darkness. Donna felt all her limbs being dragged into a cold, dark place that she didn’t want to see. Threads of strong gold were pulling at her wrists and her ankles, whispering into her ears, telling her that she could do it.

She could just give up. Nobody would miss her anyway, not her mum, not her Gramps and certainly not the Doctor. She just had to let go, let the darkness envelope her, let the gold threads weave power for her. The gold could make sure that the Spaniards never came to this place again. The threads spilled from her hands, forming sharp weapons that could pierce armor. The threads told her where the Spanish were at their weakest, told her how they could kill Magellan and every single one of his men. It told her how she could destroy the Victoria with her bare hands.

“Donna,” a voice broke through her reverie, but it was so soft, so muted. One of them was underwater so she couldn’t hear it.

“Donna,” it repeated, and she wanted to breathe in relief, but she couldn’t. Why couldn’t she? Something blue appeared in her vision, drifting towards her like a lifeboat. She heard wheezing, groaning and whirring and it made her feel hopeful. It felt so familiar.

“Doc..tor?” She asked, her words coming out in incomprehensible bubbles. She wished he could hear her, the gold thread was now around her neck and pulling really tight. The blue arms pulled her up, snapping the gold threads one by one. Donna felt warmth prickle her toes and her hands as she floated upwards. She wasn’t going to make it up though. She was going to die, but it was nice to know that someone was trying to reach her.

“I’m not going to let you die, Donna. You can’t leave me. Don’t be afraid. Let go of the crystal, Donna. My beautiful, brilliant Donna.” 

The thread pulled at her throat, tightening further. She was probably just imagining things, because nobody had ever said such nice things to her. But…someone already had, hadn’t they? The Doctor did, earlier in the temple. Or was she imagining that too? The threads continued to creep up to take her body, travelling along spindles of Donna’s insecurities, happiness, fear. Anything she felt was being pulled away from her so violently and painfully that she felt empty. She was slipping from the strong, blue grip that held her. A patterned cloth in gold and burgundy floated down, wrapping around her to give her a bit of warmth. The Doctor’s Balinese batik. It really was lovely.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Donna said fondly, pulling it closer to her. “This is really lovely.” 

* * *

When the beeping finally slowed, the Doctor was waiting. Donna had been in and out of consciousness for the last 48 hours. Her pulse and blood pressure had sunk and skyrocketed as she went through the symptoms of heavy metal poisoning like she was ticking off a checklist. Nausea, check. Headache, sweating, a few hallucinations, check, check, check.

Once they made it to the TARDIS the Doctor yanked the crystal forcibly from her neck, tossing it into a deep hole inside one of the boxes underneath the grating. Another dangerous piece of space junk to add to his massive collection.

There was a point where he thought he lost her, when her heartbeat was so fast the tattoos on her arm seemed to be alive. When she had seen him at the temple, her joy had created the second marking. Now her fears were making it worse.

“I’m not going to let you die, Donna. You can’t leave me,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead, the tops of her hands, the points where the gold tattoos were trying to kill her. He almost said that he loved her. “Don’t be afraid. Let go of the crystal, Donna. My beautiful, brilliant Donna.” 

Inside the med bay of the TARDIS, the ship had prepared the standard treatment for Donna’s particular brand of heavy metal poisoning. The Doctor had extracted a bit of blood from her so the ship was able to create a specialized treatment for her. It had taken a couple of hours, but eventually her heart rate was back to normal. Another quick blood test showed that her toxicity levels had lowered significantly.

She was going to be okay.

The Doctor wrapped her batik around her for a bit of warmth and kissed her forehead again. Donna seemed to curl up against where he was, and he let her rest her head against his neck, burrowing for warmth. He was so skinny that he and Donna fit in the infirmary bed, and he lay next to her as she pulled her towards him, hugging him like a teddy bear.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she whispered. “That was really lovely.”  He sighed deeply as the feather on her arm faded away. Then he closed his eyes too.

THE END. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! :) I really hope you liked it. Leave a kudos if so desired!


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